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RPlog:Selene Day's Wookiee Hunt
+weather for Selene Imperial City: 70 degrees and clear Wastelands: -15 degrees, snowstorm The sun continues to linger in the sky as it continues its decent through the western skies. The celebration on Selene continues in full force as festivities end or begin throughout the city. The major activity for this evening being the Hunt of the Wookiee. Moff Marx had put a lot of preparation and thought into the idea, and many Imperial beings had done plenty of work to make it happen. The large road leading into the wasteland's is now completely blocked off, a large stage area temporarily set up for the event. Stormtroopers litter the area, more so than during most of the events. As the hunters run through weapons the weapons and armor inspection lines and registration, a tall, thin man dressed in the olive tunic and trousers that were common on planet makes his way onto the stage and towards a microphone. "Good evening." he begins as he looks out towards the crowd of people. "Some of you stand here as hunters, some as spectators, though I am sure that we can all agree that this event will be associated with the Grand Opening of our glorious capital city for many years to come." a bit cheesey, yes, though it was not like one of the many well spoken Moff's were going to take the time to start the hunt. "As soon as all of the hunters have run through weapons inspection and checked in with registration we will begin the hunt." The man leaves the stage, walking towards a large cage that houses the wookiee in which was the center of the night. Having to wait a few moments at one of the registration desks, wrapped tightly within her sand-colored cloak, Claven smiles faintly at the living carpet caged not far away. Claven was not one for senseless killing - even if the current circumstances differed from her past reasons only by the uncertainty of them paying off - but somehow she knew she'd have to do this. If the council knew she was vile enough to hunt and kill a perfectly innocent Wookiee - even if many of them didn't look like they could squat a fly under their own power - she imagined she would, fit in better. She did not have to wait long before she can walk up to the registration desk, forgetting the Wookiee for the moment, dropping her cloak open to reveal her armor and the ST-I underneath, then simply informing the Imperial present; "Adine Rhymlan" Mangling the name of her undoubtedly worried-sick bodyguard to suit her purposes... Danik Kreldin knew what to expect inside the Wastelands. So, he prepared beforehand, since he wasn't sure if the proper equipment to survive in there would be given. He visited the Imperial Garrison and grabbed the specialized shots that were used by the Empire during the reconstruction of Selene to survive in the Wastelands. He had passed them out to Woden and Alesis, also. He was wearing gear to survive the harsh snowstorm, as well...he wore an Imperial issued winter camo heavy utility uniform and goggles, which he wore over his combat armor. He had a Kylan-3 in his holster, but he elected to use his APNG3 Stun Rifle instead. Although it was only for stunning an opponent, it was better than the Kylan-3 for situations like this, and he could always kill the Wookiee after it was down. With his Stun Rifle slung over his shoulder, Kreldin approached the regristration station and signed up. Danik Kreldin, Admiral, 45 years of age, and had his weapon inspected. After that, he walked away from the regristration station and leaned against the dome's wall, patiently waiting for the game to begin. Darenak passed through registration quickly, having only light armor on and in his right hand was an ST-I dangling loosly. He takes the injection from Kreldin and uses it, wondering if he got the wrong syrum or something. Yeah, that'd be just his luck to get the broken one. But to die here on the ground, whether it was from the radiation/weather, or even from a Wookiee, of all things, he'd rather be up in space, dead or alive. He stays near Danik and Sandor, his arms folded across his chest. His face had an expression of bordem. He wasn't truly prepared for the weather, but his thick clothes would do just fine as he was right at home in this cold, just as he was in the cold of space. Lauranne is trained to work in the Imperial kitchens, but somehow or another she has managed to end up here. She accepts the equipment being issued to her for this event, and the anti-radiation injection then identifies herself for the records-keeper: Lieutenant Lauranne Tremichall. Formalities out of the way, the young woman moves to where the hunters are gathering in preparation for the evening's main event, a little uncomfortable in the light armour and heavy weather gear. She looks over the ST-I the weapon so as to be familiar with it /before/ she finds herself actively in the hunt. What might have seemed like an eternity to a normal man passed in an instant, of sorts, to Sandor. He'd checked and rechecked dozens of scenarios in his head, and prepared well in advanced for the events transpiring around him; like the older man who had registered shortly before him, Danik, Sandor was wearing a winter camo uniform, with his light armor and extra clothing underneath, and at first he regularly rubbed on the spot where he'd injected himself with the shot Kreldin had procured for him. As his turn in line came, Sandor promptly stepped to the desk, and offered the empty vial as proof that he was already covered for the radiation, and his F-31 laser sniper rifle, as well. "You can put me down as Sergeant Sandor Woden, age 22, and just to clarify I also have standard issue light armor beneath this.", he crisply told the registrar, in what passed as enthusiasm to the young, but relatively experienced hunter. It had been awhile, and he'd never hunted in a nuclear blizzard, but Sandor felt fairly confident about his chances of success, and smiled at his comrades in the waiting area as he approached them to begin his wait anew. "Make sure you're getting all this, 4U," says Xerxes indicating the fanfare with a sweeping gesture of one hand. An affirmative bleep is emitted from the hovering spheroid at his shoulder as it pans across the crowds, recording the event for posterity with the glossy black 'eye' of its holo-recorder. The human saunters over to one of the officers working the check-in desk, cutting ahead of a few people patiently waiting. "4U, make sure you get this," he says as his hand delves beneath his cloak for a moment, reappearing with a polished platinum code cylinder which he tosses onto the counter. His tone is matter of fact, but light-hearted. "Xerxes Kherzen, checking in," he announces with a grin. This man seems like such a tourist. It'd be hard to guess that he's bound for the radioactive wastes beyond the city. The officer working the check-in station seems about to protest the man's circumventing the wait, but decides that he doesn't really care, "Weapon?" Xerxes unslings a long-barrelled rifle from over his shoulder, cycles the action, pops the power cartridge out, and lays them both down on the counter. Perhaps the man knew a little about what he was doing? After the long line of hunter's begins to clear out and they head towards the now opened gate into the wastelands, those involved in making sure the event ran through without any hitches begin to ready the wookiee and start the evening. A squad of Stormtroopers makes their way from the street towards the small area that had been set aside to house the large cage. Most of the troopers brandish ST-II's, though three of them have traded in their rifles for force pikes, something that rarely happened though for this particular event such things were not unusual. As they reach the cage, the pike equiped troopers begin to jab at the wookiee through the open bars on the cage. "Grrrarrrrggghh!" the wookiee howls as the electrically charged tips of the weapons make contact with fur covered skin, the singed fur now emitting light smoke and a horrible smell. The wookiee was now ready. Another man, dressed similarily to that of the previous, makes his way onto the stage, grabbing at the microphone. "The hunt will now begin." he states looking to the troopers who begin to ready to open the cage and release the beast. "At the fire of the blaster.." he pulls a small pistol from a hip mounted holster. "You will all be released into the wastelands." Looking to the troopers once more, he nods and they step back from the cage which swings open, the wookiee refusing to run out for a moment. *ZAAAAP* a pike is burried into the creatures haunch, and with a howl he makes his retreat, to hide ... or fight...survival being the only thing on his mind. Quickly jabbing the injection she'd received into an opening at her armor's shoulder - left specifically for that - and disgarding the empty syringe, Claven is the first to start moving after the opening shot'd been fired. Jogging towards the gate Claven frees her breather, a classic A-99, out of a small pouch on her belt and places it in her mouth. Danik nodded his head towards Sandor as the man approached. "Looks like we're starting," he said, looking over towards the cage with the Wookiee. "I've never been a very brutal man, but that reward is too much to pass up," Danik said, snickering. He stood up tall again and took his rifle off his shoulder, turning the safety off. As the announcer prepared to begin the Hunt, Kreldin took one last look at Sandor and grinned. "Don't worry, Woden. I won't forget; just watch my back out there." Finally the Wookiee was released into the Wastelands and the game had officially begun. "Alright, here we go..." Danik took a deep breath and hoped the shot worked. Alesis holds his blaster in his right hand, following Woden and Kreldin, jogging just behind them. He lets himself slip into the Hunt. His senses tuning in to the inhuman part of the mind, where time seemed to slide into irrelevence. This is how he felt just as he was going into battle in space. He hoped this same trick worked for the ground work. He'll need it if just three men were going against a wookie, and they'll need even more luck if other hunters decided they wanted to prize money more than Sandor. He smirked as the three searched and their prey. Lauranne fumbles awkwardly at getting her assigned breathing apparatus into place as the Wookiee is being 'prepared' for the hunt. She is certain she is the least experienced of the hunters gathered and makes a point of letting them move ahead of her so as not to get into their way at this moment. Things are strange enough just being a part of this at all. With the majority of the hunters having moved out into the wastelands, Laure now moves into a jog so as not to be left completely behind either. Swiftly, but not without a degree of caution in his steps, Sandor jogs out into the wasteland, following where he'd seen the wookiee run originally, but keeping his eyes as open as he could manage, given the horrible visibility, and biting cold even after his precautions. "And people live out here..", Sandor muttered to himself under his breath, wondering if the mutants would try anything, or would see the fleeing wookiee as a good sign to begin their own flight. Pulling up the hood of the camo over his head, and double-checking how secure the goggles he'd found with the uniform were to his face, Sandor tries to imagine where a furry alien would run in a radioactive wasteland, after having been zapped by force pikes, but shakes his head a moment later at the futility of it. Danik's words still echoed in his mind, though he wasn't concerned about betrayal by this point, Danik would no doubt have much more serious concerns to worry about, such as the other hunters. Even Darenak Alesis was something of a wild card at this point, in Sandor's mind, but again Sandor realizes he should be focusing on what matters. What little he can see, and catching up with the hunters that had managed to rush ahead. The spectacle of it all captured by the droids sensors, Xerxes allows himself a moment to absorb the scene from a personal point of view. The beast's howls of anger, of pain. The crowds elated cries. Conviently, Kherzen doesn't think of the hypotheticals, of how the creature got here or how things might have been different. All those thoughts are held at a safe, comfortable distance. The only thing that matters is that everyone here is going after it, and it's better to have a fighting chance out in the wastes than to die miserably, stuck in a cage. As the other hunters begin to charge off along the prey's trail, accompanied by fanfare, trumpets, and even a bit of tickertape, Xerxes proceeds at a somewhat slower, more methodical pace, rifle tucked under his arm. He was quite willing to let the others work the hunt for a while, satisfied he'd get a chance once the prey was softened up some. You pass through the gates into the wastelands of Selene. Dome Entrance - Wastelands: Selene The entrance into the dome was overwhelming. To each side the dome disappeared into the mist off in the distance somewhere. The sight was truely one to behold as it towered above you into space itself. The lower walls of the dome were made of a very thick durasteel, one that could not be penetrated by mere means of weapons or explosives. About a half a kilometer up, the dome was made from transparasteel, but one would have to be flying to even see into the city at that height, and still it was made to be several meters thick and sectioned. It served it's purpose in case one of the sections failed, it wouldn't disturb the rest of the dome. The gates were massive, high enough to allow even an Imperial walker through it's birth. A smaller entrance was laid off to the side of the gates, but heavily guarded by stormtroopers in protective gear to fight off the radioactive air of Selene. One would be lucky to get close to the gates without a pass or Imperial ID, and some nearby frozen bodies of mutants in the snow showed that very fact. NOTE: The temperatures are well below freezing, and there's always a constant flurry of snow falling. The warmth of the planet soil is the only thing that keeps it from accumulating more then a foot or so. Also, to survive, one must have some form of protection from the toxic fallout, whether it be an atmospheric mask or chemical inhalation/injection. NOTE: There is a HIGH concentration of stormtroopers throughout the city during the festivities. Contact Scaven, Tyler, Korolov, or Danik before doing anything -against- the Empire during your stay here. All weapons would have been taken at the spaceport upon arrival, no exceptions. The stubborness of the wookiee was easily changed as painful weapon's are jabbed into his skin, though he was not likely to give up easy. A thick coat of fur covers his body, and for nearly the first time in his life it would be of use. Snow falls constantly within the dome, sticking to his body as he runs deeper and deeper into the toxic waste land. Anger, furry, fear rush through the being as he makes his way into the unknown. Maybe, just maybe if he could find a place to hide, kill the hunters one by one he could live in the old ruins that were rumored to exist within the thick durasteel that surrounds the wastelands. Yes...just another prison, a larger prison, though barriers nonetheless. Continueing to run at top speeds, he does not look back, does not look to what is sure to be his death, if the radioactivity does not get him first. Danik crept into the Wastelands slowly, following Woden and Alesis, clutching his stun rifle as he surveyed his surroundings. This was his first time concious in the Wastelands; his last visit was when he had been knocked out by a vicious squid alien. But Danik frequented Selene a lot before the Dark Emeninence crashed into her, and some of the buildings still remained, however ruined, so he could get a good visual layout of the area. Somewhat...the snowstorm was hell and was really messing up Danik's vision. Fortunately he had the goggles on, otherwise he wouldn't stand a chance out here. It wasn't fun moving around here, either. He didn't know about the others, but Darenak was having fun. Who knew ground ops could be so fun? Although, he had to admit, he would rather be hunting Rebels than just some walking carpet. He now had to keep close to the leader of the pack, Sandor. This was mostly his operation, but Darenak had no reserves whatsoever about having his own bit of glory added to the whole mix. His trigger finger, normally on the trigger of a control stick in his fighter, was begining to twitch. When the time came, he would have no trouble shooting anything and everything that moved. After a short length of time, Sandor is able to catch up with Kreldin, and even as he reaches him he goes into a crouch, all the while yelling out "Any idea where it went?", although even with that he was concerned he might not be heard. Truly, Sandor could not concieve a more hellish environment in which to track someone, even a spectacularly tall individual like a wookiee. Not exactly waiting for an answer, he clutches his rifle close to him, and peers out through the scope, scanning the surrounding area for any movement. Maybe, through the snow, he would be able to catch a glimpse of the creature before his fur became too covered in snow, in which case it would become substantially harder to track it. If not entirely impossible. Finally out of that damned uniform, armor around her body and a blaster rifle in her hands, it proved surprisingly easy for Claven to revert back to her old pattern. Following the larger group at a distance, using them as bait and decoys, and when finally the Wookiee would try to take out the ground, she could pick it off from a safe distance. As she'd done on her last assignment involving a walking matt of fur. Even if that particular one had failed. Staying as low as possible, without actually losing sight of the group, and occasionally diverting her path slightly to one side or another in case they looked back, Claven follows and bides her time. Despite trudging along through what could be accurately described as a frozen hell, and falling behind seemingly every other the hunter out here, Xerxes still seems to be smiling. It's not the same devil-may-care grin he had within the protective boundaries of the city. No, now there's more of a let's-see-what-you-got kind of smirk adorning his face. Drawing the insulated hood of his cloak up over his head and switching on his a thermal regulator, he get a bit, a very little bit, more comfortable in his surroundings. Nearby, the spherical AS-M4U is buffetted by the chilling gusts. A lesser droid would be useless out here, but this seeker was the best money could buy and was proving it. So long as the drone didn't rise too high, it'd be fine. The droid emits a low warning warble followed by a series of staccato beeps. "Yeah, Yeah. I know, 4U. Radiation's too high for a good sensor lock, not to mention the weather. Just gimme what you can... and stay locked onto the other hunters if nothing else." You move south towards the riverfront. Riverfront - Wastelands: Selene(#7735RLXntFN) The riverfront area of the old Imperial City is as old as the settlement itself, but its former quaintness has been shattered by the rows of frozen bodies in makeshift shelters who didn't have time to flee the ecological destruction. No longer do birds frolic in the small fountains that dot this once serene area of the city and the stillness in the air is only broken by the occasional shriek and wail of the injured and dying mixed with the moaning of what the fallout had created from a few poor souls. The River Sanna to the south has completely frozen over, and only those who knew of it's previous existance would even know it was still there. Its embankments are completely hidden as the snow-drifts have taken over the landscape. The dark, gray sky overhead serves as a constant reminder of the devastation that has occurred on Selene. The massive Imperial icon, newly built city within the dome, can barely be seen to the north through the falling snow as it towers out of sight in all directions NOTE: The temperatures are well below freezing, and there's always a constant flurry of snow falling. The warmth of the planet soil is the only thing that keeps it from accumulating more then a foot or so. Also, to survive, one must have some form of protection from the toxic fallout, whether it be an atmospheric mask or chemical inhalation/injection. NOTE: There is a HIGH concentration of stormtroopers throughout the city during the festivities. Contact Scaven, Tyler, Korolov, or Danik before doing anything -against- the Empire during your stay here. All weapons would have been taken at the spaceport upon arrival, no exceptions. Pose Order NPC_Wookiee: 26+23=49 Danik: 14+11=25 Sandor: 12+13=25 Darenak: 13+11=24 Claven: 11+7=18 Xerxes: 10+7=17 Sandor could feel his heart almost skip a beat; in the extreme cold and excitement of the hunt, it felt as though he'd been hit in his chest, right through the armor, clothes, and even bones. But it didn't hurt, exactly, but startled the man for a moment that he had actually found the wookiee already. That the prize was already in his sights, only minutes after the competition began. And that was all the hesitation Sandor needed to squeeze down on the trigger, unleashing a burst of brilliant light that arced through the irradiated snow, almost seeming to illuminate them as it flew towards it's prey. Immediately after the shot had been fired, Sandor gave his companions an update, for once his voice almost sounding warm next to the environment itself, "I have him, follow in the direction of my shot, but keep your eyes open". Beneath all his gear, Sandor even smiled, this was going much better than he'd expected. The wookiee continues to run as the group that follows begins to trail further and further behind him. Not stopping for anything, the beast cringes at the sight of frozen bodies that litter the area. This planet was miserable, even to those that were not braught here strictly to die for viewing pleasure of humans. Head flying from side to side, the wookiee squints as he runs, making out something in the distance, an old residential district or something, maybe the wookiee could take shelter in one of the buildings. Hiding might be the wookiee's only chance to catch the hunters off guard and fight them one on one. Kreldin stopped for a moment to gather his bearings. He turned his towards Sandor to acknowledge the man and shrugged. "Nope...no sight of him. Impossible to see anything in this blizzard..." Danik was then proven wrong by the sergeant, who quickly told him where it is as the sergeant opened fire with his sniper rifle. "Wha? You really saw it through all this? Heh, good eyes...did you get him?" Danik asked, watching as the bolt alright. "Well, whatever..I'll go check it out. I'm moving in...you know what to do if it's still alive," Danik said, then proceeded forward, running at his fastest to catch up with the Wookiee and hopefully put an end to this hunt right now. With his stun rifle in hand Kreldin quickly moved into the residential area of the wastelands, scouting out the area attentively. You paged NPC_Wookiee with 'Do I check search?' Darenak: Darenak cracked his neck, his ST-I ready to start firing. His eyes scanned the area nonstop, searching, almost hoping for a target. His feet were just able to keep up with Sergeant Woden. The pilot hadn't really needed to use his legs nearly as much as anyone in the IGF, but his hand-eye coordination was just as good, if not better. Reflexes were kept in check just in case. He took a quick look over his shoulder, nothing, then proceeded to look all around him, hoping for a glimps of fur, or a shadow, or anything moving for that matter. Suddenly, Sandor takes a shot! Darenak swings his weapon towards the direction of the blast and scans the area quickly. He then runs forward quickly, hoping to also catch sight of the monster. Hearing gunfire ahead, Claven quickly drops to her knees behind a small pile of rubble and readies her rifle, peering over the rock at the group ahead. At the center of the group she notices one of the Imperials staring down the barrel of his sniper rifle. Raising back to her feet, the Moff makes a low run closer to the group, safety off her blaster and hoping to catch a glimpse and get a shot at the furry creature. He'd come here for a hunt, an adventure, not a damn marathon! "And that's what this is turning into," grumbles Xerxes to himself. He's half-tempted to just signal for a speeder, and end this little brush with the wild, when the flash of blaster fire illuminates the area up ahead. Xerxes, eyes squinting attempting to pierce the flurries, peers ahead... but it's no use. He's able to make out a pair of hunters in the lead, but whatever they're shooting at is well beyond him. Somewhat heartened that someone's making progress though, the executive gets moving again hoping to begin closing the distance. Riverview Residential - Wastelands: Selene The residential area of the Old Imperial City had become home to death. Lining the snow-drifted streets of the once peaceful Riverview were horrors that most can not even imagine. As the planet fell under the blanket of darkness, and hunger took hold in those few who survived, they found their way here where their....food, was plentiful. Homes were ramsacked and nearly destroyed. The only thing that remained was abandonment. Littering the streets beneath the snow were the frozen corpses of those unlucky few that died half-eaten by cannibals. Some even found their fate in the jaws of hideous creatures that now scurry about in the darkness, created from the fallout itself. All sorts of enemies still lurk in this unwanted land. From time to time, you can hear the moaning of hungry cannibals and the silent footsteps of mutants in the snow. NOTE: The temperatures are well below freezing, and there's always a constant flurry of snow falling. The warmth of the planet soil is the only thing that keeps it from accumulating more then a foot or so. Also, to survive, one must have some form of protection from the toxic fallout, whether it be an atmospheric mask or chemical inhalation/injection. NOTE: There is a HIGH concentration of stormtroopers throughout the city during the festivities. Contact Scaven, Tyler, Korolov, or Danik before doing anything -against- the Empire during your stay here. All weapons would have been taken at the spaceport upon arrival, no exceptions. Pose Order NPC_Wookiee: 26+23+29=78 Sandor: 12+13+19=44 Danik: 14+11+8=33 Darenak: 13+11+16=40 Claven: 11+7+26=44 Xerxes: 10+7+20=37 Buildings. A glimmer of hope flashes into the eyes of the wookiee, though between the ever growing distance that was forming between the hunter's and their prey, and the snow that now covers the beast nearly creating a white blanket over his thick brown and black fur. The length of the wookiee's strides increasing with anticipation to taking shelter in one of the many abandoned houses and buildings that rest before him. Looking back over his shoulder, a smirk forms over his face, white fangs exposed. A second passes and then the wookiee vanishes into a building, waiting... Sandor: Cautiously but quickly Sandor stood once more, now well aware of where the wookiee was, generally, and sprinting to catch up to his fellow hunters. It wasn't really that Sandor didn't think them capable of taking out the wookiee alone, so much that being alone with the other hunters around, even wearing camo, sounded like suicide. Having followed into the residential area itself, Sandor races up to the top of what was once a building, but now little more than a pile of snow-covered rubble, and up to the rounded peak itself, where he began to squat low whenever he moved, hoping to avoid being sighted by friend or foe until the right moment. Once more he began to peer into the scope; this time not looking for the wookie, but the hunters not part of his group. Though he might not be so lucky in finding any of the other hunters as he had been in finding the wookie itself, at least now, blending with the falling snow, sky, and snow-covered rubble, it'd be just as hard for them to see him. Coming up on the residential residential area, Claven slows her pace, listening for footsteps and looking around. Her heart beat in her throat, unaccustomed to having to look for her prey, much less in areas as desolate as this one. Suddenly feeling hunted herself, the Moff heads towards the nearest of the buildings along the street, seeking cover. Charging through the door she quickly scans the room she's in, her rifle raised and turning along with her head. Moving through a second door, she momentarily glances out a window before turning to the interior of the room... A startled yelp escapes Claven as she finds herself face to, whatever, with the giant Ewok. Tightening her grip around her weapon she shuffles back towards the exit, firing a shot as she's almost there... Darenak: Darenak was running as fast as he could, Sandor just ahead of him and Danik just behind him. His ST-I held tightly in his right hand as the radioactive storm makes it very hard to see anything, and losing his only weapon would be a very bad thing. He followes Woden to a cluster a mostly destroyed buildings, rubble really. As he watches the Sergeant climb up on it, Alesis yells "I'll cover the bottom from down here in case anyone trys to sneak up to the base!" He doesn't know if his cry was heard, but it hardly mattered. As long as Darenak did his job and Sandor was able to pick off the other hunters, then all that was left was to corral the Wookiee into a nice firing vector between the three, where the Imperials would end the hunt and claim the prize. He aimed behind him so he will be able to see anyone unfriendly running up to them. Xerxes manages to catch up to the trailing edge of the pack just as they enter the residential zone. Favoring Danik with a cordial nod as he passes the other hunter, Kherzen's pace eases as everyone fans out and he finds himself creeping along the desolate street the bitterly cold wind whistling through abandonded buildings like the forlorn wailings of all those that past here. A scream, then a shot ring out but in the echoing ruins Xerxes can't get a lock on the source. Hands tensing into a white-knuckled grip on his rifle, the executive suddenly realizes how exposed he is out in the middle of the street and dashes for a bit of cover. Kreldin slowly made his way into the now-ruined residential district of the former Imperial City. Things were heating up now that the Wookiee was confined to one area, thanks to Sandor's good eyes. He was careful with his steps, not trying to make too make too much noise as he made his way through the deserted wasteland. He certainly didn't want to attract the mutants to himself, much less the Wookiee. Trying to control his breathing, Danik searched a few houses and other areas of the district, trying to hunt the Wookiee down. Then it hit him! It was snowing out, and obviously the Wookiee made foot steps in the snow as he ran away. So he looked down now, trying to find the big foot steps of the Wookiee to hunt him down and end this hunt. Ignoring Xerxes for now, Kreldin contined his search and finally caught on to the Wookiee's foot prints. But then gun fire sounded out through the area. Kreldin quickly followed the foot prints and came upon the house where a certain female and the Wookiee occupied. Kreldin took no chances. He immediately aimed his stun rifle at the Wookiee and opened fire. NPC_Wookiee: The wookiee howls as a hunter makes her way into the building. Jumping from his crouched position in the corner, he is lucky enough to dodge the first of many attacks that would sure ensue. As he flies through the air, another bolt flies from another hunter. Wonderful, another had found him in the building. His hopes of getting off this planet alive were slowly deminishing, though he was going to put up as much of a fight as possible. Landing on the ground, arms and legs sprawled, he shakes his head and lets out yet another growl. Within seconds he is to his feet again and running towards the door. Swinging his arms madly at Danik, he did not intend to get pinned in the room, though he would be happy to knock out one of the hunters on his way out. Sandor: From atop his crumbled perch, Sandor watched as the female huntress, likely the only one that had made it this far of her gender, stumbled into the wookiee's domain. From there, trying to find an opening through windows alone, he inched around and a secondary target quickly came into view. The wookie itself, left in a daze from what Sandor wasn't even sure, but he surmised it had something to do with Danik, or even Claven, though that seemed less likely. Sandor could swear he had heard two shots muffled by the blizzard, but he wouldn't be able to confirm that until later, in either case. Now all that mattered to him was the distance it took his finger to press down onto the metallic length of the sniper rifle's trigger, and the steak of light that passed towards the wookie immediately afterwards. Claven: Her shot having missed, Claven dives out of the door opening as the Wookiee comes charging forth, and she hears someone else enter behind her. A stun bolt passes through the space she'd occupied just moments ago, and she watches as the Wookiee attacks the new arrival. As if the situation hadn't gotten complicated enough yet, a laser bolt burned through a window, hitting the Wookiee as it retreated for the door. For a moment Claven could almost sympathize with the trapped creature, but she raises her ST-I anyway, aiming for the retreating not-so-cute woodland creature as she pulls its trigger back... Darenak: Darenak runs towards the blaster fire and roars, his oen weapons tight in his grip. Through the storm he sees a flash. He runs over to find the Wookiee attacking Kreldin. Suddenly a laser bolt comes from out of nowhere and strikes the creature. As it staggers back, another shot just misses it. Darenak takes his time to run foreward and fire two-handed through the window at the wounded beast, the storm making it a bit hard to see, but then he was close enough to tell where the shot hit, and what it hit. Scaven: Overhead, several hovercams can be heard wizzing around through the storm, but not seen. It's obvious the Empire is feeding a live picture of the events back to the city, probably on every display. Sensors aboard these hovercams keep a close eye on the Wookie's health and status, as well as the players in the game. Xerxes observes their target burst from the cover. It's hard to miss with the rain of blaster fire that follows close behind it. He steadies his rifle upon a bit of crumbling building, zeroing in on the beast... when a sudden pang of doubt flickers across his conscience. These odds didn't seem quite fair, yet. Swiveling slightly he aims not really at, but in the general direction of Darenak and squeezes off a round while still behind cover and yelling, "Sorry! My fault!" His stun blast didn't seem to knock the beast down as he expected; instead, the Wookiee came straight at him, slashing with his claws. Kreldin quickly moved out of the way, only to wince in pain as one of the Wookiee's claws strike Kreldin's right arm. Fortunately the wound was not deep, and Kreldin quickly recovered, watching as the Wookiee was hit by a sniper blast from afar. But the beast was still alive, however, and the female was not slow to open fire as well. She missed, however, and the blast nearly hit Danik. Surprised, Kreldin quickly charged at the beast who had taken one more shot from another blaster and attempted to stab his rifle's bayonet through the Wookiee's chest, aiming at where he would think its heart is. Blaster bolts fly through the room in every direction as the wookiee attempts to run for safety. Most of the bolts miss, passing by the creatures head and other various parts, though one burns through the creatures shoulder. Smoke begins to arrise from his body as the flesh burns. "Grrrraawwrrrwrrrr!" The wookiee emits a series of noises, the pain was obviously excruciating. Running a paw up to his shoulder, he eyes the man that had begun to charge, the man that had shot him. With a quick jerk of his body he begins to run towards the man though seconds before he is to clear the doorway, a sharp pain shoots through the creatures side and he is knocked to the floor. After emitting several more obscenities in his native tongue, he looks up to Danik. The bayonet on the mans gun had been driven through the creatures right side, running through his chest and out the left. Blood had begun to poor into the snow, dying it from the pure white that it had once been to a crimson red. Lifting a paw into the air, the wookiee weakly swipes at the man, though eventually passes out, his body taking action over the creatures mind, his fate sealed... another alien's life lost at the hands of the Empire. Sandor: After a lengthy chase, it seemed the hunt, almost a small battle at this point, was coming to it's climax. Numerous shots had been fired, and the wookiee hit several times, so all that remained for Sandor was putting the creature out of it's misery. And Sandor out of his, as well, with the prestige and the prize money hanging in the balance. Now that the wookiee lay on the ground, stilled by a brazen but well-timed bayonet charge on the part of Danik Kreldin, who Sandor was starting to believe had a deathwish, Sandor moved his sights towards the shape of the large, unmoving furry being's head, and squeezes down on the trigger once more, hoping that this will be the very last time. And an end to the frozen nightmare now etched in the Sergeant's mind. Several of the hovervids come down out of the storm, one to hover in front of Sandor, "You have been named the winner of this Hunt... Moff Marx would like to invite you to a meeting right away." Another droid hovers down to the fallen wookie and takes off into the air with him, back toward the city. Selene Day's Wookiee Hunt